Curiosity
by kbrand5333
Summary: Ana is curious about some things Christian has mentioned but has yet to act upon. "Missing scenes" from book 3, post-pregnancy, pre-Teddy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, hi. This is my first 50 Shades fanfic. I normally write Arthur/Gwen fanfics for the Merlin fandom, but this has been something in my head for a while, so I thought I'd see if you guys like my writing as much as my Merlin peeps do. This is a one-shot for now, but if you all like my smut writing, I may continue it as a series of naughty drabbles. And do feel free to check out my other stories. Some of them are just as naughty as this one. Some even more so. :)**

**And obviously I am not E.L. James and am not affiliated with her or the books in any way. I'm just someone with a dirty mind who likes to write. **

"Charles!" Miranda screamed, "Charles, wait! I _You have such beautiful breasts, Ana. One day I'll fuck them._

Christian's words float back into my consciousness for the thousandth time since he uttered them, rudely interrupting the manuscript I am currently reading. _What the hell was he talking about?_

Motion catches the corner of my eye as my beautiful husband strides into the living room, poking around on his BlackBerry, a slight scowl transforming his face into that of a boy who hasn't gotten his way.

_Ask him. You know he'll love it._ I look up from my manuscript and fix him in my stare.

"May I help you, Mrs. Grey?" he asks, the scowl replaced by an intrigued smirk.

My inner goddess has my subconscious in a headlock, her hand over her mouth. Here goes.

"Christian, I've been wondering about something," I asks. _Jeez, am I blushing already? When is that going to stop? I'm nearly five months pregnant with his child, for Pete's sake!_

"Mmm, looks like it's something good," he says, striding over. His bare toes peeking out from beneath the hem of his jeans distract me for a moment, and I swallow.

"You said something once about… fucking my breasts…" I trail off, leaving the thought hanging, hoping he'll catch on.

The corner of his lip curves up into a sly smile. "I did mention that, didn't I?" he comments, tapping his long index finger against his lower lip thoughtfully.

I nod mutely. "What, um, exactly does that… entail?" I ask, my voice ridiculously small.

He chuckles merrily, his grey eyes twinkling for a moment before they shift darker, hungry. Hungry. "Would you like me to show you?" he asks softly, leaning towards me, nuzzling his nose against mine.

"Yes," I breathe.

Christian tosses his BlackBerry carelessly on the sofa cushion and removes the manuscript from my hands, setting it beside his phone. "Come," he beckons, holding his hand out for me.

I take it, and he leads me to the bedroom. _The bedroom?_ "Oh…"

It's out of my mouth before I realize, the disappointment clear.

"Something the matter, Mrs. Grey?" he stops and turns toward me.

"I guess I was thinking that this was a playroom activity," I mumble. My ears feel like they are on fire. My subconscious has broken free and is pointing and laughing.

"No, the playroom is not required for this," he says, grabbing my hips and pulling my body against his.

"Oh…" I answer, mystified.

"We _could_ go up there, but… no," he shakes his head slightly, as if deciding.

"Why not?" I ask, and I realize that I am actually pouting slightly.

"Because," he leans down and kisses me, "there are too many other things up there that may… distract me from my purpose, and I may lose focus."

"Christian Grey, lose focus?" I ask, my eyebrows lifting in surprise. _Never._

"Mrs. Grey, it's a well-established fact that your mere existence brings out things in me I've never experienced before," he says, turning his head and nipping my ear lightly. "Stranger things have happened," he mutters huskily in my ear. He raises his head again and looks down at me.

Then he bites his own lower lip and very, very slowly releases it, his top teeth scraping gently against the succulent flesh of that lower lip as it emerges from its trap.

_Oh, my. Now I get it._

I lift up on tiptoe, pressing myself against him and suck that lower lip into my mouth, biting it lightly. Christian groans into my mouth before pulling gently away.

"So no playroom?" I ask innocently.

"Not this time," he says, kissing my nose. I pout again. "My sweet Ana," he breathes, smiling down at me. "There's still so much I could teach you."

"I think I've proven myself a very apt pupil, Mr. Grey," I answer, leaning up and running my tongue up a tendon on the side of his neck. My inner goddess is now wearing a Catholic schoolgirl uniform and has tackled my subconscious, subduing her again.

"Indeed you have," he groans, squeezing my backside in his hands. Then he slides his hands up to hold my head, cupping my cheeks and pulling my lips to his for another scorching kiss.

_Damn…_

"But you'll never learn anything new if we don't reach our destination," Christian pulls his lips from mine just enough to murmur this against them.

"Lay on, MacDuff," I say, grinning at him.

"I thought that was 'Lead on, MacDuff," he comments. I'm amazed at how our conversations can shift gears so quickly.

"Common misquote. Means the same thing." I shrug. "You really want to discuss Shakespeare right now?"

"I would not wish any companion in the world but you," Christian whispers, stalking towards me, peeling off the black t-shirt he is wearing as he goes.

"_The Tempest_," I mutter absently as he reaches me, his fingers reaching for the hem of my tank top. He pulls it up and off before dropping his lips to mine again, his tongue seeking mine, his arms wrapping tightly around me.

My subconscious has broken free and is now holding my inner goddess' arm behind her back and is pulling one of her pigtails. Subconscious nods encouragingly at me, and my inner goddess even gives me a thumbs-up.

I pull my lips away and whisper, "You have witchcraft in your lips."

Christian stares. _Aha, got him._ "Henry V," I mumble.

"Right," he says noncommittally, moving us to the bed and yanking the duvet off before easing me back down onto it. He skims his fingers down my bare torso and pulls my sweats down and off, taking my panties with them. He gazes down at moment, his eyes still dark and smoldering. "Be right back," he says suddenly and scurries into the walk-in closet.

_What?_ I am confused. _I thought this didn't require any special toys._ As I lay there, I look down at my body and frown. _Starting to get a belly. Blip is making me look more fat than pregnant at the moment._

"Why are you frowning at yourself, Anastasia?"

_Crap. Busted._ "I'm getting a belly."

"No frowning at our child," he admonishes gently but firmly, quasi-Dom voice. I see a small bottle of something clutched in his hand, and he sets this on the nightstand before sitting beside me on the bed. "This," he says, running his long-fingered hands along my stomach, "is _temporarily_ my favorite part of you."

"Oh," I gasp, his touch making my skin tingle, and my nipples stiffen in anticipation, asking to be touched as well. I see his eyes flit briefly in their direction; I notice his accompanying smirk.

"They're not tender anymore?" he asks, tracing his thumb along the bottom of one of my breasts. His voice is gentle with concern.

"They're better now that I'm out of first trimester," I answer. _Holy shit, is this a medical exam now?_

"Good," he answers, kissing my jaw. "I wouldn't do this if they were," he mutters against my skin.

All that does is confuse me more.

"Now," he says, unbuttoning his jeans. "First things first." He leaves his jeans on but open, kissing his way down my chest, across my slightly-swollen stomach and in moments he is burying his face _there,_ his hands under my backside, lifting me slightly.

"Christian," I whimper, one of my hands tangling into his unruly hair. He tastes me, all small licks and sucks, his expert tongue swirling around and flicking at my clitoris, making my back arch off the bed.

"Hold still, you," he mumbles, bringing one hand up to splay across my chest, groping its way to close over one of my breasts, his thumb grazing my nipple.

Christian moves lower and plunges his tongue up, inside me. _Sweet Jesus._ I moan.

"You taste so good, Mrs. Grey," he whispers when he withdraws his tongue. He closes his lips over my aching clitoris and suckles it, even applying his teeth gently.

"Oh!" I cry out, and he flicks his tongue over me a few more times before I stiffen and shout out my release, coming like a speeding train, trembling and weak.

"That's my girl," he mutters, grinning, kissing his way back to my lips and working his jeans off at the same time.

He reaches for the bottle he'd brought, and it turns out to be a bottle of that sweet-smelling oil he's used a few times with me. I'm so spent already that I'm only vaguely interested in what he's doing, so I watch through slightly glazed eyes while he pours a small amount into his hand and rubs it against the other. My inner goddess is having a cigarette break; my subconscious has got her nose buried in _Romeo and Juliet._

"My turn," he says, his voice a seductive promise as he lowers his hands, starting at my collarbones and working down, slathering my breasts thoroughly, around, between, anointing my nipples. I lean my head back and enjoy his hands on me.

"Mrs. Grey, you are so beautiful," he whispers, and I realize he only has one hand on me now.

I open my eyes and see his other hand on himself, stroking his length, spreading the oil there as well.

_Surely not…_ The pieces are starting to fit together now. Especially when he climbs over me, straddling my chest.

"This may be a little tricky with Blip back there, but I think I can manage," he says, his strong thighs holding him just off my body.

"Now, Mrs. Grey, I am going to fuck your breasts," Christian says, his voice low and seductive. "But I do require your assistance."

"Okay," I whisper, biting my lower lip now. "What do I do?"

"For starters, stop biting your lip," he scolds gently, pulling my chin. "Then," he pauses again, and he moves slightly so that his shaft is resting between my breasts.

_Oh. I see._ I raise my hands and push my breasts together, trapping him between them.

"Yes," he whispers, "smart girl." Then he moves his hips, sliding back. "Oh, baby…" he groans, "good…"

I watch, mesmerized, as the tip of him rhythmically appears and disappears just under my chin, caught between my breasts. I push them together more firmly, moving my fingers just slightly to catch at my nipples.

"Ana…" he breathes, his eyes blazing as he notes my actions, clearly enjoying the increased pressure as well as the sight of me playing with my own nipples.

_This is strange… a little wrong, but we've done worse._ I look up at Christian. _But when he's enjoying it this much… _ His arousal turns me on, and soon I am moaning slightly and pressing my thighs together.

"Oh… Jesus… I don't want to…" Christian gasps, and pulls back suddenly. "I don't want to come on your face," he explains, his breathing harsh.

"Thank you," I answer, and seconds later he is filling me, burying himself deep.

"Oh!" I cry out, pressing my breasts into his chest, spreading the oil over him as well.

Christian groans again as our slick bodies slide against each other, his body pumping furiously into mine, my body meeting his thrust for thrust.

"Fuck, Ana," he gasps, burying his head into my neck.

"Christian," I breathe, my fingers in his hair again, holding him there as it builds again. I want to delay it, want to draw it out, want to…

"Come on, Ana, come with me, baby," he pants low into my ear, and his seductive voice proves my undoing, and I shatter around him, shouting what must be a garbled version of his name, my thighs tightening around him.

"Ana…" he presses his face into my neck, and vaguely I feel his teeth against my skin as he stills, buried deep as he comes, surging into me.

He rolls us both then, so I am lying on top of him now, and he kisses my neck.

"You've earned another A, Mrs. Grey," he says after a moment, once his breathing has slowed.

"Well done, me. I've been curious about it for a while, you know," I say, lifting my head and trailing my fingers along his brow and down his cheek. He turns his head and nips my fingertip lightly.

"You know what they say about curiosity, don't you?" he asks, smirking at me.


	2. Chapter 2

Only halfway back from Montesano, and I have to pee. One of the finer points of pregnancy: excessive peeing, caused by a baby using my bladder as a bean bag chair.

"Christian, can you get off at the next exit?" I point to the roadside sign, advertising FOOD and GAS at the next off-ramp.

"That depends on you, baby," he teases, but signals and maneuvers the car to the exit.

I flush, realizing my words, and mutter, "I have to pee."

He just chuckles and pulls into the gas station. It looks clean enough, but at this point I'm ready to drop trou and squat behind a bush. I scramble from the car and bolt inside.

"Bathroom?" I ask the teenaged boy behind the counter. He points. I run.

Pulling open the door, I lock it behind me and quickly go about my business. It's clean enough in here, smelling faintly of bleach, a one-seat bathroom.

"Ana?" Christian's voice follows a light knock at the door.

"Almost done," I call. "Would you buy me some Combos? The pizza pretzel kind."

"I want to come in," he says, and I can tell he practically has his lips pressed up to the crack of the door.

I flush the toilet. "What?" I ask after the noise dies down.

"You heard me. Open the door, Ana."

_Dom voice?_ I turn the knob slowly and ease the door open. He pushes inside, presses the button on the knob to lock it again, and pounces, pressing me back against the far wall of the bathroom.

"Chr—"

His lips are on mine before I can even say his name, kissing me hungrily, ardently, his hand sliding up my thigh, under my skirt.

"I'm going to fuck you in this bathroom, Ana."

My inner goddess wakes up from her nap and stretches like a Persian cat that has just been given a tray of sardines.

"Oh, God…"

He yanks my panties down with one hand, nearly tearing them but not quite. "I believe this was discussed at one time or another," he says, his voice a husky growl in my ear as he licks at my neck and sucks my earlobe into his mouth.

"Sounds familiar," I say, gasping now, my hands clutching his shirt.

"We need to be fast," he says, pushing my hands down to his waistband, "and probably quiet, baby."

In his thrall as always, my fingers unbuckle his belt, open his pants, and delve inside, finding their prize.

"That's it, Ana," he murmurs into my neck as my hand automatically strokes him a few times. It knows what to do without my having to tell it.

Christian hooks an arm under my knee and lifts me off my feet and I cling to his neck with my free hand.

In seconds he's sheathed within me, thrusting furiously, pulling my other leg up around his waist as he drills me into the wall of this bathroom.

"Oh… oh, Christian!" I gasp, trying to keep my voice somewhat quiet.

He clamps his teeth down on my lower lip, biting just hard enough to get my attention. "Quiet, baby," he rumbles, sucking my lower lip into his mouth before releasing it to slant his mouth over mine, plunging his tongue deep inside, in time with his thrusts.

One of his hands comes up to palm one of my breasts – how is he even holding on to me with one hand? – and his thumb flicks back and forth over my stiff nipple, through both my bra and my shirt.

"Mmm," I clamp my mouth shut as he drives deeper, faster, harder. I lean my head back and it thumps lightly against the wall, and I giggle, momentarily distracted.

My laughter is short-lived, cut off by the building, the fullness of him inside me, the illicit nature of where we are. I whimper against his lips.

"Let go, Ana," he growls, still moving fast and hard within me, driving us both to the edge.

I let go and fall over the edge, leaning my head forward and actually biting the place where Christian's neck meets his shoulder in my efforts to be quiet as my climax wracks my body.

"Fuck." A desperate, whispered curse, and he stills within me, his cock pulsating its release inside of me as we ride the wave down.

I slide down until my feet touch the floor again, attempting to right my clothing.

"One convenient thing about bathroom sex," Christian says as he casually saunters over and pulls a length of toilet paper from the roll, "easy clean-up."

I giggle again, still constantly amazed at how _casual_ he always is about these things. Would I ever catch up?

"Turn around," I say, not entirely comfortable with the prospect of Christian watching me tidy myself up. But one can't have things running down one's legs.

He sighs and smirks, but says nothing about how ridiculous he surely thinks I'm being and turns around.

"Okay," I say a moment later, and flush the toilet again.

"Come. Let's buy you those Combos," he says, holding his hand out to me. "But you get nothing to drink until we're home."


End file.
